by Yvette Hines
“Everything is taken care of.” Mr. Reese rose from his seat on the couch beside Mr. Branson. “I’ll have Mr. Branson’s office manager, DrewAnn, make you all copies of it.” He headed to the office door.
“Three copies, please.” Tasha called out to Mr. Reese.
The other lawyer nodded and walked out.
“I know you’re a busy man, so we will not take up anymore of your time.” Vance rose from his chair, one of three that had been positioned across the couch from Mr. Branson and his lawyer.
“I will say that I’m looking forward to continuing my business connection with Harrisburg Airport.” Mr. Branson offered them a smile as he stood up.
“We are thankful that you agreed to have your company provide the fuel supply.” Drake offered his hand to the older gentleman.
Grasping his hand, Mr. Branson pumped it. “Once I met you and your brother a few months back, it was an easy decision for me. I admire men who have the courage and know how to strike out on their own. It’s how I started.”
“Isn’t your father Marcus Branson of Branson International Shipping Corp?” Vance asked as he shook hands with the business mogul.
Mr. Branson chuckled. “A man who does his homework. Yes, he is. However, he didn’t believe in giving a leg up to his children. So, my four sisters and I had to start from scratch in building our own empires.”
“I think I would’ve liked your father,” Drake commented. It amazed him how his impression of the rich and how they raised their children was being altered from what he saw in the media that generally only featured the spoiled socialite children.
“Well, maybe you’ll get a chance to meet him one day, since the old coot is still around.” Mr. Branson patted Drake on the shoulder blade as he escorted them toward the door.
“You have a lovely family.” Tasha stood beside the long credenza against the wall adjacent to the door and admired an eight-by-ten, silver-framed photo.
“Thank you. That was taken for my sixtieth birthday. Once your children hit a certain age the pictures of them become few and far between.” Mr. Branson gazed fondly at the portrait.
Drake glanced around Tasha toward the photo only out of politeness. He froze as his lungs seized up on him. All four members of the family were attractive and well-styled as they all showcased wide smiles for the camera. However, there was only one face that drew every ounce of his attention—Kiera’s. Right there in glossy color was the woman who’s bed he’d rolled out of at six o’clock that morning.
Hell, it was the woman he was making scream at five thirty, because he couldn’t leave her without slipping deep inside of her one more time. His dick was still sore from all the sex they’d had last night. And here he was standing beside her father. The business mogul responsible for providing fuel to his and Vance’s airport business. Fuck.
Kiera had rocked his world, but more importantly, he’d returned back to his hotel to shower and dress for the nine a.m. meeting with the knowledge that she opened up his heart and burrowed her way inside. This couldn’t be happening.
“His daughter.”
“Drake?”
“What did you say, Drake?”
Tasha and Vance both spoke at the same time, bringing his attention back around to the others in the room and the gravity of the situation he was in.
Drake frowned. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken the words out loud. “Hm.” He cleared his throat attempting to come up with something that made sense. “I was just saying that your daughter favors your wife.”
Mr. Branson chuckled. “Only in looks. She is all me inside. Now my son…” The older man shook his head. “On another note. When will you all be back in town?”
“About three weeks to a month.” Vance confirmed.
“Good, good. That’s perfect. My daughter, Kiera, owns a community center for youth. She’s allowing me to put together a fundraiser benefit. It is important to her that most of the people who come and contribute are local business owners. I’d love to add the three of you to that list of attendees. It would be a perfect place for you to connect with some of the people in the city.”
Drake nodded. Not because he particularly wanted to attend, but out of courtesy as he tried to figure out a way for them to get out of going.
“Drake and I would love to come. We’ll be there.” Vance was smiling and offering another round of handshakes.
Staring at his brother, shocked that Vance would volunteer them for something without consulting with him first. Shit.
“Great. And you, Mrs. Rucker?” Branson asked Tasha.
“Sorry. I will be back in Michigan now that all the legal part of my cousins’ business is settled.”
“Understandable.”
Drake would have preferred to be in Michigan with Tasha.
Branson placed a hand on Drake’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to you two meeting my daughter.”
Why’s he staring at me? A sick feeling began to expand in Drake’s stomach. What would this man think about signing on with the Harrisburg Airport if he knew about me and Kiera?
Rich business tycoons always preferred their children marry well. What did Kiera say, that her brother was engaged to some CEO’s daughter, leaping up the corporate ladder following the “I Do’s”? Drake doubted that Branson would accept his daughter in a serious relationship with a blue-collar man.
Even if the Rhine’s owned a small airstrip, Drake was still just an airplane mechanic.
“Yes, sir.” Drake responded. His words felt wooden and hollow as he walked out of the office after his cousin and brother.
A distant part of his brain noted that they collected their contract copies from the secretary out front of Branson’s office, but Drake focused on that very little, just as he did the ride down in the elevator to the garage floor.
“What’s up with you, Drake?” Vance stood beside the car they had all ridden from the hotel in.
Snapping out of his fog for a moment, Drake looked at Vance, who was opening the front passenger door for their cousin. “Nothing.”
“I would think you would be all smiles about our business, but instead you’ve had deep creases above your nose since we got into the elevator. What gives?”
“I’m just processing everything. Nothing to worry about.” He forced a smile.
Vance arched an eyebrow, not looking convinced. “It’s too late to have second thoughts.”
“Not having second thoughts.” He exhaled. Going into business with his brother didn’t concern him at all. It was the only bright spot in his mind right now. “I’m good. Look, I want to take a walk through the city for a little while. Some things I saw in the dark I want to get another look at.”
“You want us to go with you?” Tasha peered out from her seat.
“With those heels?” He pointed at her feet. “Hell no. I may have to carry you back.”
“Vance would help.” Tasha poked his brother in the side.
“The hell if Vance will.” Vance chuckled.
All was back to normal between them. It was exactly what Drake was aiming for. He didn’t need the added stress of his brother’s questions.
“I’ll find my way back to the hotel before late check out.” Drake walked backward toward the elevator that would take him up to the lobby/street level.
His brother waved him off and got into the vehicle.
Alone finally, Drake laid his head back against the wall of the elevator car. At that moment his emotions were clashing. On one hand he was finally going to be his own boss, doing what he loved alongside his older brother. Things could not have been better. However, there was a large shadow that loomed over those emotions like the sky before a tornado—dark and ominous.
“Kiera Stanfield.” He said her name aloud. He had to. Maybe for the last time.
She was the daughter of Richard Branson. It was a situation he never saw coming. It was one thing when her powerful father was an abstract figure. Now that he knew her father was Branson
, a man he would not only be working with, but one he admired.
The elevator buzzed, reminding him that he had not pushed the button to select a destination.
With a heavy heart he selected the lobby floor.
By the time the doors opened one level up from the underground garage and he walked out he knew what he had to do. Stay away from Kiera.
Just like him, his brother had used most of his saving and acquired a large loan to buy the airport. He couldn’t risk affecting that.
No. There wasn’t a way he could jeopardize losing Branson Management and hindering their airport business before they even got started.
* * * *
“Kiera, what’s up with you? I thought you would be full of smiles and cheers that the fundraiser is going so well.” Brigitte moved next to her, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.
“I’m very excited.” Kiera forced a smile on her face as she stared around the ballroom filled with over two hundred people.
The guests were mingling around the large pictures of the center and youth caught in the act of various activities. Those who were not walking the border of the room were eating at tall, round tables or placing bids on the donated silent auction items. Soon they would begin to file onto the dance floor. She and her father had opened up the event with a short speech of thanks, telling them about the center.
Her father had gone over the amount she had told him, but she couldn’t complain because the money companies and individuals were donating would make a lot of difference for the things she could install and provide for the youth. They would be able to take more educational and fun trips during the summer, as well as bring in computers and sports equipment.
Catching a glimpse of her mother linked arm-in-arm with her father made Kiera smile a little more, Lola Branson was in her element.
“Hm. I’m not fooled.” Her friend pursed her lips. “What gives?”
Draining the last of her champagne, Kiera tried to come up with something to tell her friend that would get Brigitte off the scent.
“Delaying is not going to detour me.” Brigitte bumped her shoulder against hers. “Talk to me.”
Letting out a heavy sigh, Kiera wished she had more champagne. She couldn’t afford to get drunk at the event, since she was the host with her father, but she wanted to clear her mind of the depressing thoughts.
“It’s male problems. Something I should have steered clear of as I had been for a couple years.” Kiera stared down into her empty glass.
Brigitte brow creased. “How can you be having troubles when we just spoke a few weeks ago after you and the mechanic tangled sheets?”
She recalled going to her best friend’s house for lunch in the middle of both of their workdays, specifically to share about Drake. After spending the entire night and early morning with him, she was walking across tulips. She knew when he kissed her at her car before she drove to work that she was head over heels for the man. Never before had she fallen so fast and so sure. Fate had brought him back into her life, and she couldn’t conceive of anything going wrong.
Forcing air out of her mouth, puffing her cheeks, Kiera glanced over at her friend. “That was the start and end of it I guess.” Her throat began to burn. She swallowed to rid herself of the tension made up of both anger and disappointment.
Stepping before her and cutting off her view of the room, Brigitte gave her a pointed look. “You’ve got to be shittin’ me.”
“I wish I was.”
A waiter came by carrying a tray of glasses, and Kiera set her flute on top.
“What in the blazes happened?” Brigitte whispered.
“What always happens to me?” Kiera snagged her friend’s drink and took a large swallow from it. “I make terrible choices where men are concerned. My father once had a great aunt who never dated or married… I should take a page from my ancestor’s book.” Walking away, she headed across the room toward the bathroom. She needed to get herself together before the scowl she was sure she was wearing from the thoughts of Drake caused permanent creases.
The clicking of heels behind her let her know that Brigitte was on her trail.
She paused for a moment as a man she didn’t recognize crossed her path.
“Kiera.”
Glancing back over her shoulder, Kiera held a hand up. “I just need a moment.” Continuing on her way, she passed the main door and halted in her tracks, stumbling when someone stepped in front of her.
Someone grabbed her arms, keeping her from falling. When she glanced up, her heart became just as immobile as her feet. Drake Rhine stood before her.
“Hello, Kiera.”
Taking in a shuddered breath, she jerked away from him. “What are you doing here?”
She had to remind herself not to make a scene. There were too many people eyeing her because she was owner of the center as well as the fact she was Richard Branson’s daughter. Not only that, but Drake wasn’t alone. There was an African-American man beside him, one she recognized as the baggage claim agent from O’Hare.
“Who are you?”
Drake looked past her to Brigitte, who questioned him as she stepped up beside Kiera, then glanced back at her. His blue-gray eyes were intent on her as if no one else mattered.
Clenching the stem of the glass in her hand, Kiera knew she couldn’t give in to the soft reaction to him.
“Your father invited our company. We’re community business owners.” He pointed to the man who had walked passed her first. “That’s Vance, my brother, and you remember Antwan. He came on board as our scheduler.”
After greeting Antwan, she turned to the male who resembled Drake in height and facial features.
“Vance this is Richard Branson’s daughter.”
Vance’s face displayed a wide smile and he held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”
She shook his hand. “Same here.” The last thing she wanted to do was stand here and play nice, but being rude wasn’t her style either. “Congratulations on your new airport.”
Vance’s mouth tilted into a shy side smile. “Thanks.”
“This is my friend Brigitte.” She introduced her friend to Vance. Not daring to even look at Drake.
Stepping up, Brigitte greeted Vance first. “You all got the Harrisburg Airport, right?”
“Yes,” Vance confirmed.
After Brigitte shook hands with Vance and Antwan, she looked at Drake, but didn’t offer him her hand. “That must mean you’re Drake.”
Her friend did what Keira couldn’t pull herself to do, bring the focus back to the man Kiera would have preferred to ignore.
Giving him a side glance, she saw the dip of his brow. Drake had questions.
Well, so do I.
“I am.” Drake looked away from her friend and centered his gaze on Kiera. “If you all will excuse us, I really need to speak with Ms. Branson privately for a moment.”
“Antwan and I will locate where to turn our pledge in.” Vance left.
The airport scheduler followed suit after giving a targeted look to Drake.
“Kiera?”
It was Brigitte’s hand on her arm that pulled her attention from Drake’s. “It’s all right, Brigitte. I have a few things I would like to get off my chest.”
Squeezing her arm, Brigitte reclaimed her drink and walked away.
“Please?” He indicated a small nook by the entrance, still within view of the room, but it gave them a small amount of privacy as long as no one was coming or going.
Once she was there, she faced him square on. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about, Houdini?”
“Excuse me?” When understanding dawned on him, he gave a slow nod. “Got it. You’re referring to my disappearance.”
Folding her arms beneath her breasts, she tried to hide the tremors of her hands. “Not even a single call.” With sarcasm-laced words she continued, “Evidently, our night was just a way to scratch an itch. Or you were just getting the lay of the la
nd in your new city.”
“It wasn’t like that.” Appearing frustrated, he shoved a hand through his hair.
He looked too damn good. Even while agitated. Dressed in slacks, a jacket, and a button-down shirt, sans a tie. Her mind didn’t stop replaying exactly what he looked like beneath his clothing, or reminding her of them together.
She shoved the thoughts away, no need to torture herself. “I don’t care what it was like.” Turning, she began to walk away.
Catching her arm, he kept her from leaving.
“Let me go, Drake.”
“I need you to listen to me. Please.”
Against her better judgment, she agreed. “You have five minutes.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “I can see that you’re hurt. That was never my intention.”
“Really? You could have fooled me.” Speaking through tight lips, she spoke in a harsh whisper. “I’m not sure in Chicago how women respond to a man having sex with them and not calling or saying a word for over a month.”
“I left a message on your phone.”
“Oh. Uh. Yeah, I got your sorry message.” She felt her throat tightening again and her eyes starting to burn. But she refused to cry. She’d shed tears for what could have been that night after she heard the message on her home answering machine. Then anger set in because she felt like a fool for trusting him. “‘Kiera, I’m sorry, but I think it’s best we end this now before it really gets started.’ What kind of message is that? You couldn’t even be man enough to tell me personally.”
“Look—” He tried to take hold of her shoulders but when she reared back, he lowered his hands. “I couldn’t do it. You can call me a coward and spineless. But, that phone call was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Outside of not picking up the phone every morning and night and calling you. I died every day.”
She shook her head slowly and stared at him. He appeared as distraught as she felt. Which didn’t make sense. Confused by her own warring emotions, she fisted both of her hands, wanting to hit something in her frustration. “Then why put us through all of that? Why?”